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Though her cheeks were as red as pomegranates, her tone was light and airy. Anyone else might have thought they were two strangers meeting for the first time. In a way, they were. But for all that she had matured, she was still Ellie, and her flush told him she was remembering that conversation. A conversation he desperately wished he could erase.
“Lord Wincanton?”
Sorin realized he’d been staring. “My apologies. It is only that I cannot believe how much you’ve changed. It is as though a different person stands before me.” He forced a smile. “Where is the mischief-making pixie who climbed trees and ran about with no bonnet until her nose freckled?”
The corners of her mouth curled slightly and her nose, utterly devoid of freckles, lifted a fraction. “Those were the antics of an impulsive youth. I am a lady now. In every respect.”
Clearly she had not forgotten. “That pixie was my friend. I would not have changed her for the world, and I shall miss her if she is indeed truly gone.”
His carefully cloaked apology had the desired effect, for her lips now formed a sweet, rueful smile reminiscent of days past. “She is still here. And she will always be your friend.”
The pressure in Sorin’s chest eased. “It gladdens me to hear it.”
“Come now and share a toast with us,” she said, blinking eyes that were suspiciously bright. “A toast to celebrate your return.”
“Indeed,” said Rowena, coming forth. “It has been far too long since you graced us with your company. You used to spend weeks at a time here with us. We have all missed you.”
“Indeed we have,” agreed Charles, handing him a flute of champagne. “Waterloo was necessary, I suppose, but for the life of me I’ll never understand why you personally had to take care of all that bother in the East.”
Against his will, Sorin’s gaze fixed on Eleanor. “Neither assignment could be delegated to another and both were equally necessary,” he said, distracted as he watched her accept a glass.
“Well, at least it’s all over and done now,” said Charles. “The hunting has been dismal without you along, you know. I hardly bothered with it last year. As such, the deer have just about overrun the place. My gardener has been having fits over the beasts. The pheasant have been unchecked as well. Droves of them at every turn. But we’ll soon sort it out now that you’re back.”
“I shall be glad to help, of course,” Sorin replied absently. Eleanor was wearing an interesting shade of green that complemented her eyes, and her deep-caramel hair was piled high in the Greek fashion currently so popular. It made her look cool and regal—like the woman she was, rather than the child he now struggled to remember.
Pushing aside such thoughts, he tried to concentrate as everyone raised glasses to first toast Eleanor’s twenty-first birthday and then again to toast his return. Her cheeks remained pink with excitement as she sipped her champagne, and the smile she gave him over the rim of her glass made his heart constrict.
Of all the things Sorin had experienced, his visceral reaction to her innocent embrace five years ago had been one of the most alarming and unwelcome. He’d hoped the time away would cure him of the affliction, but it seemed to be stronger than ever. His hand still tingled where hers had touched it. It was obvious now that his perception of her had been irrevocably altered. Gone was the little girl he’d discovered crying in the garden after her parents’ funeral the day he’d returned from his own tragedy in London. He’d never see her as that little girl again.
“Why not start tomorrow morning?” asked Charles, jolting him back to the present. “Since you’ll be staying the night with us, we may as well make the most of it and bag a few birds, eh?”
Stay the night? Remaining under the same roof as Ellie overnight was the last thing he needed to do right now. “That is very kind, but I should never wish to impose upon your hospitality when I live so near and you have so many other guests.”
“Nonsense.” Charles waved away his excuse. “Rowena would have my head if I let you ride back now when your favorite room has been prepared for you.”
There was no refusing him without raising questions, so Sorin nodded acceptance.
“Excellent!” said Charles. “We’ll rise early and head south down by the lake where the little devils like to roost. In the meantime, I believe the music is about to begin. As we are celebrating both Ellie’s birthday and your homecoming, why don’t you two lead the first dance?”
“I would be honored.” Heart racing, Sorin offered his arm to Eleanor and led her out onto the open floor, keenly aware of her feather-light touch on his sleeve.
“I remember my first dancing lessons were with you, here in this room,” she said with a wistful smile as other couples began to form the line. “I was all but hopeless.”
He remembered. She’d been eleven and determined to trample his toes to a pulp. He’d had the good sense to come prepared wearing his heavy boots. Those were such innocent, happy times. “Indeed you were,” he agreed. “But you improved.”
Her gentle laugh fell on his ears like rain on a thirsty field. “I did, thanks to your patience. You were a very good teacher.”
“I was mediocre, at best. Charles ought to have sent for a real instructor for you.”
“He did. Andre LaValle. But he was only here for two days.”
“Just two days? That’s not nearly long enough.”
“It was for Charles,” she said, pulling a wry face. “He discovered the blackguard attempting to seduce one of the new maids and sent him packing at once, in the dead of night, no less. Rowena had taken great pains to secure his services and was absolutely livid.”
Of that he had little doubt. To this day, LaValle was one of London’s most sought-after instructors.
“But when Charles told her what had happened, she agreed with him,” continued Eleanor. “She said she’d sooner bring a serpent into the house than expose me to such a man.” Her expression softened as she looked up at him. “That’s why she asked you to teach me. She wanted someone trustworthy.”
